


i called you up at 102

by birdinglasses



Category: GOT7
Genre: Angst, M/M, Sad Ending, Unrequited Love, basically some sad shit to read on christmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-05 20:08:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12801399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdinglasses/pseuds/birdinglasses
Summary: a sad wintry au about mark's love for jackson





	1. the call

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry in advance

Jackson had never been one who was short on affection. Platonic or not, he would never shy away from touching the people he was around, pushing their personal boundaries in a way that even the most reserved person would welcome. Jackson was a man who made anyone feel loved, important, worthy, his friendliness leaving you content and wrapped in warmth for hours after he’d gone. So, it only made sense that when Mark had found himself acquainted with the man, his feelings bled into something more than a friend was meant to harbor for another friend. Especially one with a boyfriend.

Lingering, absent-minded touches turned into the longing for electricity. Mark dreamt about the way Jackson’s lips would feel folded around his, their hands intertwined, and bodies rubbing against each other. He’d wake up in a pool of sweat among something else, cheeks flushed and chest heaving, wishing for the drag of another man’s fingers along his arm, summoning him back to sleep. And the worst of it was when he realized his dreams weren’t just about desire, they were about love. Mark could handle desire, a few tugs in his hand and he’d have everything under control, but love was something complicated. No matter how many times he found himself in bed with someone who wasn’t Jackson, his thoughts always came back to him. How he wished it was Jackson in his bed. How he wanted so badly to be in his boyfriend’s place. And how obvious it was he would have neither.

Thus came the hard part. Acting like these feelings didn’t exist.

  


* * *

 

 

“Hello?” Mark grumbled into the receiver of his phone, groggy from having been woken up in the middle of the night by its loud ringing.

“Mark!” a high pitched shriek replied. He immediately winced and pulled his phone away from his ear and checked the time on the clock by his bed.

“Jackson, it’s 1 am.”

“Oh, sorry, did I wake you up?” Jackson sounded concerned before switching back to his normal bubbly tone, “it’s a Saturday night, what were you doing asleep anyway?”

“Nights are meant for sleeping, what else would I be doing?”

“ _Weeknights_ are meant for sleeping, Mark, not the weekends. Besides, you stay up all the time playing that game Overplay or whatever.”

“You mean Overwatch?”

“Yeah, yeah, same thing! Anyways, since you’re awake now, you wanna stay up and talk for a bit?”

Mark didn’t have to guess to know exactly where this conversation was headed. His best friend had been on and off dating some guy named Jinyoung for a while now, and he could never seem to keep the boy’s name out of his mouth for long whenever they spoke. He sighed quietly to himself, careful to make sure Jackson wouldn’t hear before replying, “Yeah, I guess, what’s up?”

This scene was habitual, something Mark was used to, expected almost. Jackson would call, sometimes at a reasonable hour, sometimes not, but he would call eventually. Mark would answer because he always answered for Jackson, and they would talk the way they always have before the subject would shift, emotions arising and intimacy stringing along the telephone line. Jackson would begin relinquishing his want--no, his need--for love, how he felt lonely sleeping in Jinyoung’s bed but could never see himself without him. He talked on and on about how right it seemed that he’d met Jinyoung when he had, yet somehow felt the timeline was skewed in some way, like there was a tear in it and they’d skipped forward five years without realizing.

Mark’s heart would hurt. Because it always hurt for Jackson. And he would try his best to offer advice that would resolve his best friend’s problems with glassy eyes and fingers picking away at skin, but he would keep his answers short, afraid if he spoke too long, he’d blurt out something he wasn’t meant to say.

Tonight was different, though. Jackson went quiet at the mention of Jinyoung, something entirely foreign to Mark since the moment Jackson met the other man. He waited a moment, hoping the silence would coax some words out of his best friend’s mouth, but the line remained dead. If Mark hadn’t known better, he would’ve suspected Jackson had hung up.

“...Jackson? You okay?”

“Will you meet me? At 24th St or something? We can sit on a park bench and talk?”

Mark sat up in bed, a feeling boiling in his stomach that didn’t sit well. His eyes scanned his room, flicking back and forth at the door and his shoes before making up his mind.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll see you in 10, okay?”

This time, the line went dead.


	2. the bench

Mark’s hands were freezing, the tip of his nose numb from the cold by the time he met up with Jackson. He hadn’t thought to change into more fitting clothes for the weather when he’d left, so he stood in plaid pajama pants, sneakers, and a hoodie in the middle of a New York winter night. Mark stuffed the pack of cigarettes and lighter he’d just bought from the corner store in his pocket as he walked. It was a nasty habit he couldn’t shake, something about the sensation of breathing smoke calming him in the most stressful of situations. He couldn’t pinpoint the reason why he felt such a need for them tonight, but he felt comforted he’d have them should he want to reach for them. 

Jackson chuckled at Mark’s attire, his smile meeting his eyes in a rather melancholy way that caused Mark’s heart to lurch in his ribcage. What could this man possibly have to talk to him about that needed to be said in person? 

Jackson looked like he’d been prepared to leave home. He was denim clad and bundled up in a beanie and scarf and didn’t look the slightest bothered by the fact he’d been standing out in the cold twice as long as Mark had. This made Mark’s heart ache all the more, his shoulders holding their weight in guilt although he wasn’t sure what for. It crossed his mind that even when somber, Jackson still looked as beautiful as ever.

They walked quietly, exchanging words occasionally but not feeling any urge to fill the space around them with conversation, something Jackson had learned from his years of friendship with Mark. Sometimes words didn’t have a place in the present, and it was okay to let them come and go. 

Within a few minutes, they’d found themselves a metal bench on the edge of a neighborhood park, scraping the stacked snow off it before sitting down, Jackson’s thigh flush against Mark’s. It was silent again as the two watched the snow fall from the indigo sky. Mark wondered if there was a parallel universe out there where the both of them sat in this exact same position, hands clasped together and Jackson’s head on his shoulder. If there were, he wished he had a rocket ship to take him there.

“I think Jinyoung and I might break up,” Jackson pulled Mark from his thoughts.

“Why?”

“We got in a really big fight. One I’m not sure we can dig our way out of.”

Mark hated how his heart skipped a beat at Jackson’s revelation, like this information meant he now had some sort of chance with him. His heart always found a way to trick him into thinking things might work out how he wanted them to. The truth was, with or without a boyfriend in the way, it made no difference. Jackson would only ever see him as less than a lover. He pushed this aside to reply. “What did you fight about?”

Jackson huffed out a breath, watching as the fog of it dissipated in the air. “He said I’m too much to handle. Said half the time he can’t tell if I really want to settle down or not. Which is bullshit if you ask me because he’s the one always pushing and pulling. I never know what he wants. One second he seems happy, fulfilled with the relationship, then the next second he’s saying it’s not enough. I don’t know what he wants me to do.”

Mark nodded his head in understanding, frowning at the obvious pain his best friend was in.

“Sometimes I wonder why I’m with him, you know? Not that I don’t want to be with him--I do. But these days it feels like I’m the only one in love. It makes me wonder if I made the right choice. In dating him, I mean. Jinyoung’s so headstrong, sometimes I feel like I never have a say in anything. Or at least I’m not heard the way I make sure he is. I feel like I should be with someone more like you.”

“That’s not my decision to make,” Mark said. As much as his heart was beating rapidly at Jackson’s words, he knew they held no real value.

They looked at each other then, both absorbing what the other was feeling. Given a few more seconds, Mark might’ve leaned in and kissed Jackson. He wondered if parallel universe him was doing so right now. The other boy was first to turn away and stare back out at the neighborhood in front of them, Mark’s moment of action lost again.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Jackson mumbled. They fell into silence again as Mark’s eyes traced the side of Jackson’s face. The dim, yellow street light above them casted a halo above his head as snowflakes fell and clung to the messy hair peeking out from underneath his beanie. His cheeks were tinted pink from the cold, shoulders folding in on himself in an attempt to keep himself huddled and warm, and the more they sat there, the more Mark was finding it hard to resist touching him. He couldn’t fathom how Jinyoung could stomach hurting Jackson the way he was. And he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep his charade up. So, he didn’t.

“I’m in love with you,” Mark said lowly but still with the conviction that showed he was sure of himself. 

Jackson’s head whipped over to stare at him wide-eyed. “What?”

“I said I’m in love with you,” his eyes blinked slowly.

Jackson’s eyes shifted then, surprise being replaced with something regretful. “Mark…”

“Don’t. Don’t look at me like that,” Mark said dryly, hand grabbing for the cigarettes and lighter in his hoodie pocket, grateful he’d thought to buy them when he had.

“Look at you like what?”

“Like you pity me.” He pulled one of the cigarettes out of the box before placing it in his mouth and lighting it, making sure to cover the flame as he did. He blew the smoke out and elaborated, “You’re looking at me like I’m some wounded puppy, Jackson.”

Instead of apologizing, because he knew that wasn’t what Mark was looking for, he asked, “How long have you felt like that?”

Mark sighed, taking another drag of the cigarette as he admired the snow-covered houses in front of them,  “A while. Before Jinyoung was ever in the picture.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just did.”

“Yeah, but why wait so long? Why now? Is it  _ because  _ of Jinyoung? Did he say something to you?”

“It never had anything to do with Jinyoung. It had to do with you, Jackson.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know you don’t feel the same, that you never felt the same, so I knew it’d only complicate things.”

“How do you know I couldn’t...feel the same? That I couldn’t fall in love with you?” Jackson was looking at his hands when he asked this.

Mark tried to smile, but it only made him look sadder. If his heart wasn’t breaking before, it was now. “Because if you could, you would have by now.”

Jackson stared at him, his chest aching, before reaching out and pulling Mark’s hand into his lap, rubbing some warmth back into it with his own. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

“I know you are,” Mark let the cigarette in his other hand burn, too lost in the kind of touch he’d been craving for so long to care about taking another drag. He just wished the moment didn’t have to feel so bleak.

“You know those things are terrible for you, right?” Jackson sniffled then, lightening the mood a sliver as he nodded at the cigarette.

“How could I forget? You mention it every time I smoke one around you,” Mark chuckled.

“You really should quit.”

“I know,” Mark said, taking one last long drag from it before putting it out on the arm of the bench and dropping it in the park trash can next to him. He stood up then, feeling like this was his cue to leave. “I hope things work out for you and Jinyoung.”

“Thanks,” Jackson half-smiled. “I’ll see you soon, right?”

Mark smiled sullenly, “If you want.”

Jackson got up and pulled Mark into him, hugging him tightly to try to mend the hurt they were both sharing. He whispered another apology, eyes glazed with tears knowing he was breaking his best friend’s heart and could do nothing to fix it. He pulled away to look at Mark’s face one more time. Mark laid his hand on the nape of his neck, thumb grazing right behind his ear before he leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, the closest he’d ever get to a real one. Jackson’s hand came up to squeeze the other’s wrist as Mark turned on his heel and began his trek home in the cold, leaving Jackson to stand by himself at the edge of the park bench.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the record, i hurt my own feelings writing this


End file.
